Diamond Ring
by emblah01
Summary: 'Dominique Weasley was used to being forgotten.' Dominique-centric futurefic. Rated T. Oneshot. Please review!


_A little something I've been working on for a while._

_The French in this piece is all Fench that I've learned over the years in school. I apologize for any grammatical errors. I have added definitions in the bottom Author's Note._

_Rating: T_

_Time: Futurefic_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights go to J. K. Rowling._

Dominique Weasley was used to being forgotten.

How in the name of Merlin could she expect someone to remember her compared to tall, sexy, intelligent Victoire or sweet, kind Louis?

It was simply too much to ask of someone, and she accepted this, though it seemed to burn like fire inside her.

She was sitting at the dining room table, picking away at her breakfast of crêpes. Her short, straight red hair was covered by a woolen cap, her fringe covering her eyes and her body hidden underneath a thick, hand knit jumper despite the warmth of the July sun.

While her mother was petite and slender with full pink lips, sparkling blue eyes and silvery blond hair, Dominique was sturdy with short, uneven red hair and dull, grey-blue eyes. The only thing that vaguely reminded people of her mother was Dominique's nose. She couldn't possibly count the times various girls had drawled on about how they would _kill_ for such a lovely nose.

But Dominique didn't really care all that much about noses.

"Dominique, _ma chère_?" her mother asked, her French accent lying heavily on her tongue.

"_Oui_?" Dominique responded. The three Weasley children had learned rather quickly to speak what little French they knew to their mother.

"No 'ats at zee table, _chou-chou,_" she scolded and plucked the hat off of Dominique's head. Dominique pursed her lips together and ran a hand through her messy hair.

Her mother opened her mouth to say something when Victoire flounced into the kitchen, her blonde hair trailing behind her like silk.

"_Salût, maman!"_ Victoire greeted and sat down beside Dominique, the scent of her expensive French perfume filling the kitchen. "'Morning, Dom," she said and began working at the plate of fresh crêpes in front of her.

"Ees Louis awake?" Fleur asked as she scampered around the kitchen with the grace and elegance of a dancer. Her silvery hair was pinned in a tight bun on the back of her head with a dainty pin decorated with a diamond on top. Her silver skirt and pale blue blouse were covered in a floral apron, a gift from Dominique's Grandma Weasley.

"_Non_," Victoire answered before Dominique could get a word out. "_Maman_, could I please borrow one of your dresses today?" she asked tentatively.

"What do you need zis for?" Fleur asked, sitting down at the table with them, her fork poised over her breakfast.

"Teddy was going to take me out today," Victoire responded, cutting her crêpes with a dainty hand.

"And 'ow are zings going wit' Teddy?" Dominique's mother asked, curiosity leaking into her voice.

Dominique couldn't help the bitter feeling of jealousy well up inside her. Not because Victoire was with Teddy, but because Victoire was with _someone._ It sounded petty, but all Dominique wanted was to be noticed for once, particularly by a boy. A boy to tell her she was pretty… How nice that felt to think about.

Victoire flashed a stunning smile, showing off her perfect teeth. "Wonderfully. He said he has something special planned," Victoire gushed.

Dominique starred at her untouched breakfast. She hated this part of the day.

Without fail, there was a ten-minute span of the day when Victoire and her mother would _gush._ They would _gush_ about Teddy and Victoire and romance. They would _gush_ about the future Victoire and Teddy were sure to have. They would _gush_ about dresses and hair and everything Dominique really didn't understand that most girls her age were obsessed with.

They were interrupted by Louis stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen. His blonde hair was in disarray and his pajama pants and shirt were rumpled. Though Louis was a mere fourteen years old, the female population of Hogwarts had already started to adore him, with his neat, blond hair, brown eyes inherited from their father and Quidditch physique. Louis was rather shy, though. He was sweet and caring and loyal; the qualities that had managed to put him into the house of Hufflepuff when he was eleven.

During school, Dominique and Louis rarely talked. They would nod to each other in the school corridors and exchange the occasional 'Hello' but that was all. At home, however, Louis became Dominique's best friend.

It was an odd relationship to say the least. They wouldn't talk much, but communicate with facial expressions and sighs instead. When they were little, before Dominique was sent away to school, Louis and Dominique would lay down in the meadows stretching for miles behind Shell Cottage, picking away at the grass and blowing on the white tuft-like dandelions. Dominique could still see the little umbrella-shaped seeds floating away in the summer wind.

"'Morning, mum," he said and gave his mother a swift kiss on the cheek.

"_Bonjour, mon petit,_" she replied. "Zere are crêpes on zee counter. Do not take more zan two or your father will 'ave none."

"Dom," he acknowledged while a curt nod and sat down beside her. "How was your sleep?"

"Fine," she replied vaguely. "Yours?"

"Just the same," he said through a mouthful of food. Fleur chided him softly for talking with his mouth full.

"Merlin, Dom!" screeched Victoire in shock. Dominique jumped in shock and turned to face her.

"Yes, Victoire?" she asked quietly.

Victoire's blue eyes were wide with shock, her delicate hand placed over her mouth. "Your hair!" she exclaimed.

Dominique reached up to touch her short, fiery locks and found that nothing was wrong with them. "What about my hair?" she asked.

"Well, it's _short,"_ she replied. "Since _when?"_

"Since March," Dominique replied blankly, her features molding themselves into a blank, expressionless face, hiding the hurt that was aching inside of her.

"Oh, well I didn't notice," Victoire said.

_She didn't notice?_ Dominique thought wildly. _I've been home for three days and it's not like we never see each other in school!_

Louis shot her an apologetic smile, as if he could make it all better with his smile. Dominique merely shrugged. It had been foolish of her to expect more of Victoire. After all, she was a graduate of Hogwarts now and she had much more important things to deal with than her fifteen year old little sister.

A tense, awkward silence filled the quaint dining room. Dominique swirled her breakfast around her plate, staring at the glass of water in front of her and the light reflecting out of the glass.

The door suddenly burst open. A tall man wrapped in a thin cloak stood in the doorway; his bright red hair so similar to Dominique's was in disarray.

"'Lo, everyone!" Bill called from the doorway, running a hand through his fiery mop of hair, his blue eyes twinkling. He leaned down to peck Fleur on the lips lightly. "'Morning, love."

Fleur smiled sweetly, like sugar or syrup. Bill sat down beside her after grabbing a plate of food. Dominique downed her glass of water and excused herself from the table, though no one heard her through the loud chatter of her four other family members.

She placed her plate in the sink and sat down on the sofa, tucking her sock-clad feet under her legs. She picked up a book, the thin, yellowing pages crinkling under her fingers. Worn, green fabric with the words 'James and the Giant Peach' engraved in gold protected the pages inside. It was an old book, one that her Uncle Harry had given her last Christmas. He said that it had been one of his favourite books when he was young like her.

Harry Potter had always been Dominique's favourite uncle. Not because he was 'the Famous Harry Potter' as people liked to call him at school. He was quiet and secluded, and for a good reason. He had seen too much. Everyone knew the story behind Harry Potter; that he had defeated the Dark Lord when he was only seventeen, but Dominique could tell that he didn't like the fame that came with being a hero. He was thoughtful, like Dominique, and, also like her, seemed to like observing more than being observed. Harry Potter seemed to understand her the best.

Dominique had never been outgoing like the rest of her cousins. James and Fred were both very funny and loved to play pranks on other people, though they were a mere five years old. Molly was extremely outgoing and edgy. She was only a year younger than Dominique, but was already shagging blokes and drinking Firewhiskey in the Gryffindor common room. She had heard her aunts and uncles say that it was some sort of punishment towards her Uncle Percy because of something he did when he was younger.

And then there was Victoire. Victoire was always the centre of attention during family gatherings and many other occasions. She was kind and talented and beautiful, everything Dominique wished she was. She could have boys on their knees with just one look with her bright blue eyes and perfect figure. She was the untouchable prize that only Teddy Lupin, her childhood best friend, could have.

Everything from her hair to her love story was perfect; her life was a fairy tale. And if Victoire was Cinderella like in one of Aunt Hermione's storybooks, than Dominique must have been one of the ugly sisters.

Dominique didn't know how long she sat on the sofa reading, but when she stood up when her mother called for her to help with dinner, her legs screamed in protest, her joints stiff and her legs aching from lack of blood. Her mother was standing by the counter, chopping carrots and arranging them around a small roast.

"Zere are some potatoes zat need cutting," Fleur said and motioned to the pile of dirty, brown lumps on the counter beside a knife.

Dominique picked up a dirty, brown potato from the top of the small pile and washed away the dirt and grime under a thing stream of water coming from the faucet. She picked up the knife, the handle slipping in her wet hand, and began the monotonous chore of peeling and slicing the potatoes.

"'Ow was school zis year?" Fleur asked, much to the surprise of Dominique.

Her cloudy eyes went wide. She swallowed her surprise and replied, "Okay, I guess."

"_Bon, bon… _And 'ow ees zat boy you told me about over zee summer?" she asked, dropping a handful of the bright root vegetable around the seasoned roast.

"Corin?" Dominique replied.

Corin was one of the few friends Dominique had at school. He was the son of a family friend, Neville Longbottom, though the two children hadn't met until their first year of school. Corin looked a lot like his father, a round face and big, innocent brown eyes. His straight hair was long and often fell in front of his face, resulting in him running into many people and other objects. But, unlike his father, his true nature was of his mother, Hannah, a woman Dominique had come to respect greatly. He was quiet and thoughtful and enjoyed reading Muggle books about adventures. He rarely talked, but when he did, it was worth listening to. This was what Dominique appreciated most about Corin.

"Yes, zat boy," Fleur confirmed.

"He's fine," Dominique replied, throwing another handful of the food beside the roast.

"'Ow 'as 'e been treating you?" she asked, forgetting the carrots and turning to Dominique.

Dominique gave her a look of pure confusion. "What do you mean?"

Fleur sighed, exasperated. "Come now, _ma chère._ I am no _imbécile._ 'E ees zee only person you talk about now."

Dominique's eyes went wide with shock and she felt her face heat up. "Oh, no, no, no! We just friends, mum." Fleur gave her a look. "I'm not lying. Really. Our relationship is purely platonic. He's a lovely bloke, but only a friend."

Fleur was silent for a moment, her sapphire eyes narrowing, before turning back to the carrots, all evidence of a conversation gone.

Dominique proceeded with the task; wash, peel, slice, wash, peel, slice.

This behavior of Fleur's wasn't unusual towards Dominique. The two had never been close. Dominique had always preferred talking to Bill. He wasn't as quick to judge.

Fleur covered the roast in tin foil and placed it in the oven. Her mother had always insisted on Muggle methods of cooking. She said that it was much more satisfying in the end. Victoire had always griped about this when they wore younger, but it was one thing Dominique could agree with her mother on.

Dominique covered the dinner table with a white tablecloth, straightening it so that the centre of the tablecloth matched with the centre of the table. Most people called her silly because she did this every night, but it was something Dominique had always done, ever since she was little. Every evening Dominique was home, she would set the table with an old, white tablecloth, one that her grandmother on her mother's side had given to Fleur when she passed away, and use the good silver, another thing that a grandmother had given, though this time it was her grandmother on her father's side.

"Dinner!" her mother called up the stairs. Louis rushed down the stairs, tripping on his way down and running into the corner of a wall. "Louis, watch it!"

"Sorry," he grunted and sat down at his spot. He caught Dominique's eye and smiled. She tried to manage one back, but her lips formed into a grimace. His eyes looked pitying. She looked away.

Her father entered the room, a large smile on his mangled face. Dominique didn't truly know how her father had become so scared. He would always tell her that he had had a horribly devastating accident when he was a child involving a Muggle contraption called a 'DVD player'. But, what he didn't know was that Dominique had been taking Muggle Studies for the majority of her schooling and knew that a 'DVD player' was not, in fact, a weapon and was not likely to cause the scaring on his face and torso.

But she didn't tell him this.

"Looks lovely," Bill said and pecked Fleur on the cheek, sitting down at the table.

"We are not going to start wit'out Victoire," Fleur said sternly, rolling her 'r's.

They sat there in a tense silence, the smell of roast meat filling the cottage. Louis stared at the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. Dominique's mother sat on the edge of her chair, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her fingers laced together like a puzzle. Bill rested his head on his hand, his cheek squishing up against his eye. Dominique tapped her fingers silently against the table like she was playing the piano like her Aunt Hermione had once taught her to when she was ten.

Her aunt had never had enough time to give Dominique another lesson after that one.

There was knock at the door. Fleur jumped out of her chair and opened the door ushering two figures inside the house. One was Victoire, her petite frame sporting a pink summer dress and white cardigan, her hair pulled away from her face with a ribbon. Beside was a pink haired man Dominique recognized as Teddy Lupin. Teddy's lean frame was wearing a white dress shirt tucked inside khaki pants. He grinned at the room, his amber eyes gleaming with happiness.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," Teddy greeted and bent down to kiss Fleur on the cheek. "Mr. Weasley." He shook Bill's scared hand in his own.

"'Ow are you, Teddy, darling?" Fleur asked.

"I'm doing wonderfully," he replied. He caught Dominique's eye and winked at her. She gave him a small, fake smile in return. It felt like plastic against her lips. Like someone had slathered lipstick and face paint around her mouth and forced it into a sickly smile.

"You must stay for dinner!" Bill said, clapping the twenty year old on the back. "Dom and Fleur made enough food to feed the English army!"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Teddy said.

It was these moments you could see that Teddy was a near perfect mesh of his mother and father. He was funny and clumsy, like his mother, but he was so grateful and humble, like his father. His eyes were the only things about him that didn't seem to change due to his talent as a Metamorphagus. They were always the colour of liquid amber, the exact colour of his father's. His hair would stay the same bubblegum pink, as well, though this time it was by choice. He said that is was because he liked the colour, but everyone knew the real reason. They had all seen the picture of his mum before.

They all sat down at the table. Teddy pulled out Victoire's chair for her. She giggled a sweet-as-sugar giggle and sat down. Dominique resisted the urge to roll her yes; sometimes the two could be so sweet and gooey, it made her want to vomit.

"So," Bill began they all sat down at the table. "Dominique." Her head shot up as she heard the sound of her name. "I haven't had the chance to talk to you yet… How's school?"

"Fine," she answered, swirling her carrots around her plate.

"What about that girl you were telling me about?" he asked, popping a large piece of potato into his mouth.

"Kelly Marsh?" she replied, referring to the Scottish brunette who now identified herself as her friend. Her father nodded in assent. "She's fine. Stressing about O.W.L. results. Professor McGonagle mentioned that they would be coming out next week."

"Oh?"

"Yeah… I think I did decent. I mean, I managed to brew my Draught of Peace well enough. It was one of the few that actually worked."

"Good job, Dom! I remember how stressful O.W.L.'s were," Bill said through a mouthful of food. "What about-"

"Oh, I can't take it anymore!" Victoire suddenly cried. Her eyes were shining and her mouth was plastered in a large, toothy grin. "Come on, Teddy! Please, can we tell them?"

"Tell us what, exactly?" Fleur asked, placing her fork on her plate.

Dominique pursed her lips together in a thin line. She clenched her hands together on her lap, her fingernails digging into her pale palms.

Teddy merely chuckles and makes a motion for her to continue.

Victoire smiles so widely, it looked as though her face would split. "Teddy proposed to me!" she burst out and showed of the dainty diamond glittering on her left hand.

Fleur bounced up and down in her seat like a teenager, clapping her hands and giggling. Bill was grinning widely, already shaking hands with Teddy.

"That's wonderful," Louis said with a grin.

Dominique felt numb. Her ears buzzed. She felt a hot feeling in the pit of her stomach. It tasted bitter and it filled her from toes to head. Her vision was distorted and tinted red.

"Congrats, Victoire," she mumbled and got up out of her chair. "If you'll excuse me."

She ran.

She ran through the front door and down the stone path in front of her childhood home. She ran down the beach that expanded for miles and miles, the little waves lapping at the shore. The evening air was salty and cool. The sand felt cold and smooth underneath her bare feet. It kicked up behind her and clung the backs of her calves. A cold wind was coming off of the vast expanse of water and Dominique was grateful for the jumper wrapped around her torso.

She slowed to a walk when her breath started coming in bursts and her chest began to ache. Her legs felt like lead and her toes were red from the cold. She felt something prickle behind her eyes and rubbed at them furiously with her fists.

She refused to cry. It wasn't that she thought that crying was for children; no, it was that it didn't seem to help the situation at all. Letting salt water leak through her eyes just didn't seem like a productive thing to Dominique.

"Dom!" a voice called from behind her. She whipped her head around to see Victoire running after her, her face flushed. "Wait up," she panted.

"What?" Dominique demanded, her nose high in the air.

"What the sodding hell was that?" Victoire asked, pointing towards the direction of their house.

"I-" Dominique stuttered. "It-it was nothing. Nothing."

"It sure as hell didn't look like nothing, Dom!" Victoire took a step closer to her, her hands on her hips. "Come on, Dom. Ever since you came home, you've been distant to all of us. Even Louis. I know we've never had the relationship I've wanted us to have; we're just too different. But, it doesn't mean you can't tell me anything _ever."_

"It's nothing, Vic. I was just being stupid, okay?" Dominique stared at the sand squishing in between her toes. She was close enough the water now that she could feel the tip of the wave caress her feet gently.

"No," Victoire said, adamant. "It's not nothing. If it was nothing you wouldn't have run out of there right when I told you that I was going to get married!" Victoire stomped her foot, spraying water onto the hem of her pink skirt. "Dammit, Dom! Can't you just be happy for me? I've been waiting for years for Teddy and now he _finally_ mans up and proposes and you run out of the house like some sort of crazy person!"

"Exactly!" Dominique yelled. "Dad was finally talking to me for once! For once, the attention was on me, but you just decided to interrupt with your stupid pretty blue eyes and your stupid pretty blonde hair and say that you're getting _married!_ You were just so bloody upset that for once it was the Victoire Show anymore, that for once Mum and Dad were talking about me! Well, guess what, Victoire? The world doesn't revolve around you and your stupid pretty head! Get over it!"

Victoire stared at her, her mouth hanging open. Never in the eighteen years she'd been on the earth had Dominique ever shouted at her. Even when she was a toddler and Victoire stole her toys, Dominique would stare at her with her unnerving blue eyes until she freaked her out.

The sound of the waves gently crashing onto the shore filled their eyes. Dominique's chest heaved and her cheeks were red. Her feet were numb and the sand had dried into a crust on the backs of her calves. She crossed her arms over her chest, partly because she was angry, partly because of the cold ocean wind nipping at her body.

"I thought you didn't like being in the spotlight," Victoire said finally after a moment of silence.

"I don't," Dominique replied, her tone cutting, meant to wound the recipient. "But that doesn't mean I like being ignored all the time. I know I'm not pretty like you or sweet like Louis or funny like James or Fred, or outgoing like Molly, but I don't want to be invisible to everyone in the room! You didn't even notice that I had cut my hair. For God's sake, it used to be down to my waist and now I have a boy's haircut! We only see each other every bloody day at school!" She sunk to her knees, her eyes filling with angry tears. "Maybe I'm just meant to be invisible."

Victoire knelt beside her, rubbing her back. "No, Dominique," she said firmly. "You weren't meant to be invisible. And you aren't, you know." Dominique stared at her with her unnerving blue eyes. "I've seen the way Corin looks at you. You may not see it, but to him, you are the whole world. And Mum and Dad don't ignore you. They're just scared for you. They've told me countless times how they're scared that you're depressed or something. They just don't know how to handle it."

"I'm not depressed," Dominique said sharply. "I'm just tired of being overlooked. Everyone expects me to live up to you, the great Victoire Weasley! Head girl, girlfriend of Teddy Lupin, captain of the Quidditch team and prettiest girl at Hogwarts! But I'm not any of those, Vic. I'm not smart, or pretty or even remotely talented at Quidditch. For God's sake, I look like a twelve-year-old boy!"

Victoire put an arm around her little sister. For once, it didn't seem condescending to Dominique. It didn't feel forced or like Victoire was trying too hard. It felt like her big sister was comforting her, which a completely new feeling for Dominique.

"You don't look like a boy. You're beautiful, Dom." Victoire rubbed Dominique's arm. The wet sand soaked through the skirt of her dress and she knew she was going to have hell to pay when she got home. "Beauty isn't everything, you know. Beauty fades, but intelligence and kindness… That's forever, Dom. And you have both."

"I'm sorry," Dominique said finally, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. "I really am happy for you and Teddy. I didn't lie about that. He's just right for you, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He tones down your absolute insanity with his calamity."

"Oh, sod off," Victoire muttered and shoved her sister with her shoulder. "Just you wait; in a couple of years, it'll be Corin completing you."

"Oh, shut up, Vic," Dominique replied, though a small smile found its way onto her lips.

"I'm sorry, too, you know," Victoire muttered. "I didn't realize–I didn't know that you felt like that. You know Mum and Dad and Louis love you, right? And, me too. I love you lots. I always wished we were closer, you know. I guess we're just so different. I liked clothes and boys and you were reading Muggle books." She looked away from Dominique and out to the horizon. The wind blew her hair around her head in a halo of silver. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is that maybe this could the start of a different relationship. Maybe we could forget about the last fifteen years we've known each other and start over."

"Maybe," Dominique replied. She stood up, brushing the sand off of her bare knees. "Mum's going to kill me," she muttered.

Victoire linked her skinny arm with Dominique's. "I'll stand with you," she said and smiled.

Dominique let a real smile find its way onto her face.

_Ugh! Shitty ending, I know! I'm sorry! Please review and tell me what you thought._

_I've been working on this piece for a couple weeks now, though it didn't turn out quite like I thought it would._

_Love you guys!_

–_Lou_

_Translations:_

_ma chère: my dear_

_chou-chou: French pet name; direct translation would be 'brussel sprout' or 'little cabbage'_

_salût: hello_

_maman: mum_

_mon petit: French pet name, direct; my little, or my little one_

_bon: good_

_imbécile: imbecile, idiot, etc._

_If you have any questions, PM me or leave me a review. These are Canadian-French terms, so I don't know if they are different in France or not._


End file.
